


Of Wine and Stars

by g0bliin



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, Crack Relationships, Crack and Angst, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, IS THIS REAL, Kissing, Obsessive Behavior, One Shot, Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension, creepy thoughts, hubert is a sadist, im not sure how else to fill this but i will grant you all with treasures, oh god am i really the first make this a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 21:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0bliin/pseuds/g0bliin
Summary: Hubert finds himself pining over the last person he expected to.Mercedes von Martritz.





	Of Wine and Stars

Mercedes.

_ Mercedes. _

Mer-ce-des.  


Each syllable of her name rolled off Hubert’s tongue in a honeyed cadence, as if he were reciting a romantic sonnet.   


Conversations between them were scarce - he hardly recalled if they even had one outside of mutual greetings. There was no need for interaction amidst their own servitude and loyalty to their rulers and houses. Why bother making relationships with those who will ultimately be against you in the battlefield? In fact, they were polar opposites, down to the very core of their souls and aspirations, right up to the surface of their physical differences.  


Even something as simple as their eyes served to exemplify how much they contrasted.  


While his were vulpine and judgemental, hers were angelic and blue, absorbing the world around her in such pure optimism. Every human around her was treated equally and with a slice of kindness.  


She never smiled with her eyes open, Hubert noted. They were always closed.  


He stared down at the blank piece of parchment that laid on his desk. Usually, he would be in the midst of studying, or writing a response to agents of the Empire. But he couldn’t get Mercedes out of his mind.  


Her voice, her laughter, flooded his senses. It plagued him greatly, torturing him through the night until dawn rose. Out of frustration he snatched the parchment from his desk and crumbled it into a ball, tossing it across his bedroom. He pounded a fist on the desk, running his fingers through his messy mop of hair.  


How could this... _ woman _ worm a path into his blackened heart?  


There was only enough room for Lady Edelgard. He certainly did love her as his mistress, with a bond that stretched back nearly fourteen years. Since childhood, Hubert had never left her side, and perhaps never would until his dying breath. Fate, and his family, paved this path for him before his birth.  


Serving Lady Edelgard was his only purpose in life.  


But since his time in the academy?  


He was no longer confident in his abilities.  


All that Hubert was taught -  _ ingrained with _ \- vanished into thin air as soon as he had first glanced at Mercedes.  


He let out a heavy sigh, running his tongue across his lower lip. The bells had only struck eight o’ clock not that long ago.  


Perhaps a short walk around the monastery grounds would clear his mind of troubles. Edelgard had told him that she would be in her room for the rest of the night and needed not to disturbed unless absolutely necessary.  


If he was lucky, the dining hall may have a spare bottle of wine to ‘borrow’. There was nothing wrong in divulging in worldly pleasures when they presented themselves.  


Hubert stood up from his desk, straightening the collar of his uniform, and smoothed his hair back. He flinched as his fingers brushed the edges of his hair. Perhaps it was time to get another haircut soon, but, like most personal things, they were shoved aside for the Empire. Leaving his room, he walked across the empty dormitory hall towards the stairs, his boots the only sound that filled the floor.  


...How would it feel to have Mercedes run her fingers through his hair? Her porcelain skin a contrast against his raven locks as she caressed them.

Or to run his through her hair? To grab a fist full of her thick, strawberry blonde locks and observe her innocent eyes brim over in pain? What a sight that could be, seeing such a pure woman suffering in his arms.

He paused in the middle of descending the stairs, making his hand into a fist, digging his nails into the flesh of his palm.  _ Enough  _ of this nonsense. There would be no walk tonight if he kept fantasizing about that sort of idea. No matter how much it made his mouth water.  


Finally reaching the outdoors, Hubert stopped once more, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He cared not for gardening and flowers; in fact, he saw it as a waste of time. Nonetheless, and he would never admit it out loud, he enjoyed the pleasant aroma.

A full moon was unmasked by clouds, illuminating the grounds. Its glow was so intense, the torches that lit the academy paled in comparison. Resuming his walk, he scanned his surroundings.

Since night fell, almost all the students were already in their dorms or holed up in the library studying for exams. Either way, that meant that the grounds would be empty - save for the Knights of Seiros that patrolled around Garreg Mach.  


It also meant that the kitchens were soon to be closed. If he was to get that wine, then he’d better hurry.

He quickened his pace, jogging the short distance across, and up the stairs until he reached the dining hall. As expected, there was hardly a soul left, except for a servant wiping down the long tables. The rest of the faculty had gone for the evening, but there were a couple baskets of bread and hard cheese left out.  


Upon further inspection, however, Hubert discovered that most of it was gone. That stupid oaf Raphael must have wriggled his filthy hands all over it. He was so beastly, he’d no doubt shove anything that looked remotely edible down his gullet.  


Hubert stole another glance at the servant before waltzing over to the liquor cabinet. From its shelf he carefully plucked a wine bottle, holding it tightly against his chest. Even if the servant just so happened to see him take the wine, it’s not like they could do anything about it.  


Despite being a student at the academy, he  _ was _ still a noble. And that begot its own special privileges.  


He left the dining hall in a hasty manner, a little too eager to get back to his room and gulp down the contents of the bottle. Hubert was so hasty, in fact, that he failed to notice a figure in front of him, clashing into them so roughly he nearly dropped the wine bottle on the ground.  


“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there. Are you alright?” crooned a very familiar, sweet voice full of concern. Hubert darted his eyes from the cobblestone to Mercedes, swallowing his growing nerves.  


What was  _ she  _ doing here? Weren’t her dorms located elsewhere, or was he just misremembering? Common sense ghosted his body the second he brushed against Mercedes. His heart was beating so loudly, he heard it in his ears.  


And he loathed it-- nay, he  _ despised _ how this mere  _ woman _ rendered him so useless.

Gathering what little composure Hubert had left, he scoffed, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder with a sneer. “Of course I am. You should watch your step before someone gets hurt. You were fortunate it was only me you ran into.”  


“I suppose so,” she smiled at him, her eyes closing for a moment. “However, are  _ you _ doing okay, Hubert? I hope that I didn’t shake up that bottle too much.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied dryly. “Your concern is misguided, but welcomed. I’m sure that everything is quite alright.” His hand clasped the bottle tighter, preparing to leave her standing alone in the dark, along with his dirty thoughts. Hubert almost walked past her, but was stopped by a tug on the hem of his jacket.  


Turning around, he was prepared to scorn her for further disturbing him, but was faced with a gentle expression on her face, those perfect, round, dolly eyes affixed on the wine bottle in his arms.  


“I apologize for bothering you more tonight, but I wanted to ask if I could look at the wine bottle you have. I think I recognize it.”  


He glanced down at it, then her, delicately handing the bottle to her. “Do you have a taste for this particular brand? I’m afraid I didn’t have a great look at the label when I took- erm,  _ acquired  _ it.”  


Mercedes giggled, hiding her smile with the back of her free hand. “Don’t worry, Hubert. I won’t tell anyone you took it. Your secret is safe with me.”  


Hubert’s lips twitched at the corners, crossing his arms. “So,  _ do _ you recognize it?”

Her eyes narrowed as she brought the bottle closer, carefully studying the interior in the wan light of the moon. Her plush lips mouthed words to herself, then beamed yet again at him. “Yes! This is a moscato bottled in 1177. It’s from a vineyard close to my hometown. My adoptive father dabbles in trading wine in his business, so I’ve been able to recognize different kinds just by the size or shape from merchandise he’s brought home.”

“How interesting.” How idiotic of him to pick the wrong wine bottle. Moscato wine was far too sweet for his taste - he preferred more bitter, dry wines.

“ _ Annnnd _ you just so happened to steal one of my favorites!”  


Fate certainly was toying with him tonight, and there was absolutely nothing Hubert could do about it. Then again… this  _ was _ a chance to splurge on his desires. This interaction, if expanded upon, might unbind him from the spell Mercedes had him under.  


He swallowed his pride almost too giddily, clenching and unclenching his hands out of nervous habit. “Would you… would you perchance like to share this bottle with me, Mercedes?”  


Her shining eyes widened, nodding her head fervently. “Of course! If you really are sure about sharing. It’s been too long since I’ve had wine, and, well, I am sort of a lightweight. I can finally get to know you better as well!”  


“Go steady, then. And know your limitations. I don’t want to deal with your tipsy foolishness.”  


“The same goes for you too,” Mercedes teased back, raising her eyebrows at him. “Would you like to enjoy this bottle at the gazebo? I’m sure no one would mind that we are out there at this hour. We  _ technically  _ are drinking something.”  


Oh, dear Goddess, he was going to be alone with a  _ girl. _ And this girl, this childish woman, with her sweetness and smiles, was only going to further his suffering. Unable to form words, Hubert nodded silently, taking the bottle from her grasp for safe keeping. For all he knew, she would somehow trip on her own feet and shatter the glass all over the cobbles. His gloved fingers brushed against her bare hands, sending electric chills down his spine.  


He touched her. Oh Goddess he  _ touched  _ her. He was never one to swear, but holy fuck.  


The notion was overwhelming Hubert, threatening to render him into more of a fool than he already was. He walked ahead of her at a quick pace, listening to her footsteps rhythmically tapping behind him.  


The two were silent (much to his surprise) on their journey to the gazebo, a place Hubert generally avoided. Too many infatuated students often had dates there, exchanging love-stricken, asinine sweet nothings. Lady Edelgard and he had tea there once or twice, but that was strictly business.  


As expected, the gardens surrounding the gazebo were empty. Not a single soul was in sight. Part of him was relieved that there was no one nearby to witness the two of them together.  


Only he, Mercedes, and the moon would know of this night.  


“Isn’t it so beautiful out here at night time? I don’t think I’ve seen this place so…”  


“Deserted?”

She stepped towards the gazebo, placing a hand on one of the pillars. “No, that’s not the right word,” she bit her lower lip - expressing a habit Hubert did not know of. “Fragile.”  


He was tempted to respond that that very word could be used to describe her, but he decided to bite his tongue. Instead he pulled out a hidden dagger from his boot, stabbing it into the cork. Moving it carefully, he managed to twist the cork upwards about an inch before pulling the blade up and out of the neck of the bottle with the cork skewered by its tip.  


With a satisfying pop, the cork came out. Hubert held out the bottle towards Mercedes. “Would you like to take the first sip? As repayment for identifying the type.”  


Mercedes tilted her head, caught off-guard by his sudden kindness. “Are you sure? It is your wine bottle after all.”  


“It is the monastery's wine bottle, owning everyone, and everything that exists here.” Hubert gestured with it again, giving her one more chance before he would take the first swig.  


Without a word, she took it from him, taking a rather decent gulp of the wine. She sighed happily, smacking her lips. “It still tastes the same!”  


At this rate, if he did not seize the bottle away from her, there would hardly be a drop left for him. Hubert took it from her, curiosity piqued to know specifically how this moscato tasted. He lifted the bottle to his lips, sipping a small amount before recoiling.

The wine was disgustingly sweet, overbearing for his personal taste, and... _ perfect for someone like Mercedes _ .

“You don’t like it,” she commented with a small frown. Her downcast expression took him aback, his eyes narrowing to watch her. Now that Hubert thought about, he wasn’t able to recall a moment where he had seen her disappointed.  


And this disappointment was aimed at him. Normally he wouldn’t bother with the emotions of the other students. Moreso, students belonging to the Blue Lions house. He relished in the fact that he was seen as brooding, unnerving...

But this was Mercedes.  


Sweet, gentle Mercedes, who sunk herself in like a poisoned dagger, intoxicating Hubert’s mind. He was raised as a servant. Not some simpering, lovesick fool who fell for the first creature he saw.  


An antithesis to his very being.

So why did her shallow disappointment upset him so much?  


“It would be a waste to not drink it. I’ll have another sip.” Hubert avoided her gaze, flustered enough as he was. Her eyes suddenly became intense, focusing on him as he took another sip. What kind of person got that furious over the flavor of a wine? The wine danced on his tongue, the taste of it extremely bitter.

Wait. Bitter?! What was this? He spat out the wine on the ground, a spare drop running down the side of his mouth. “What did you  _ do _ ?!”  


A sly grin sprouted on her face, her hands clasped together at her waist as if she were praying. “I changed the flavor with magic.”  


Hubert jerked his head at the nozzle of the wine bottle. A thin, wavy line coiled around the neck of the wine bottle, snaking its way down the opening. He scoffed, scowling at her. “Warn me next time before pulling a stunt like this.”  


Cursing at himself, he closed his eyes, taking yet another sip, swallowing as much as he could. It was payback at Mercedes, in a way. Besides, it was still  _ his  _ wine bottle.  


“I also made it more alcoholic!”  


He raised an eyebrow at her, watching her almost skip over to recline on one of the chairs, crossing her legs together neatly. “...Why?”  _ And how _ ?

She shrugged, as though she didn’t understand it herself. “Moscatos aren’t that alcoholic, and you seem like the type who likes a more potent liquor. I suppose you can take it as a thanks for inviting me.”  


“Well, I should thank you for that.” He raised the bottle towards her, giving a small toast before drinking one more swing. He was not the type to get himself incredibly drunk, but did indulge in tipsiness.  


If he had any more of this magicked wine, he’d certainly end up blacking out. Two sips and the wind was knocked clear out of him.  


“It’s strange to see you all alone. Every time I see you around the academy, you’re always glued to Edelgard’s side.” Mercedes’ fingers combed through her hair idly.  


He placed the wine bottle on the table next to her with an unrestrained  _ thud.  _ “I have devoted myself to Lady Edelgard since I was a child. I cannot imagine a life without being by her side.”  


Mercedes gasped, her mouth in the shape of an ‘O’. “Oh my, that long? You must know Edelgard like the back of your hand.”  


For a second, Hubert dwelled on the thought of suddenly kissing her, if the sweetness of the wine lingered on her lips. “Yes - most of the time.” He leaned an elbow on the table, letting out a huff. “Though I cannot read what goes on in her mind. She is always plotting something, tinkering with the fine details, and I am not always aware of her decisions until the last minute.”  


He reached out to grab the wine bottle to shut himself up, lest he spilt too many details about his personal life. Whatever magic Mercedes did to the bottle was traveling straight to his head. Before he could, she snatched the bottle out of his grasp, stealing a sip for herself.  


“You’ve had quite enough already, mister.” She wiggled her index finger playfully. “If you don’t want me to get drunk, then that means you aren’t going to either.” she lifted the bottle, twisting it around to inspect it. “Though I suppose I charmed it a bit too strong, I’ve never done that sort of magic before.”  


“Watch this.” Hubert held up his right hand, then snapped it. On the end of his fingertips, a single flame danced, before he blew it out.  


“I can sort of do something like that.” With her free hand, Mercedes held out her palm, and the center of it glowed in a pale white light. A small daisy appeared on her palm, letting him observe it. She squeezed her palm shut, then opened it up. Tiny sparks drifted upwards to vanish into the night sky. “Though it’s not very useful.”  


“‘Those who are skilled in their abilities, regardless of white or black magic, provide some use in the battlefield,’” he shrugged, resting his head on his palm. “Something I read in a book once. I don’t know why I remember it. I consider it a bit naive of the author to write that so boldly.” His whole body felt loose, too relaxed for his liking. As if at any moment he would melt in the chair and slough onto the ground into a meaty puddle.

The only other time he was this drunk, was when he was barely fourteen.

His father felt that he wasn’t ‘man’ enough and decided that having his son drink until he puked his entrails out, that it would grow some hair on his chest. The only thing Hubert managed to learn from that experience was that his father was - to put it crudely, a  _ shitty  _ one. That night added to the long list of why he resented his father.  


“Are you alright, Hubert?”  


Mercedes’ voice pierced through his train of thought. He blinked, watching her tilt her head in concern for him. Too much concern for a mere stranger.  


Though if they were drinking stolen wine together, then they were no longer strangers anymore.  


He nodded his head, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I’m fine. There’s no need to be so worried.”  


Her hand patted his free hand. “If you say so.” She was about to say more, but was interrupted by a hiccup. A red flush crept over her face, pulling that same hand back to cover her mouth. “Oh my - _ hic,  _ goodness. Excuse me -  _ hic.”  
_

Hubert laughed.  


He didn’t recognize his laughter at first, or really knew why her stupid little hiccups prompted him to. It had been so long since he last laughed at something - perhaps this was the first time he had laughed out of joy. His head was swimming, his vision slightly blurry. Mercedes was stronger in her abilities than he thought. Maybe they weren’t so different from each other after all.  


“It’s strange to see such a godly woman cater herself to earthly whims,” Hubert stated, crossing his arms, trying hard not to be bothered by how freely he was speaking his thoughts. Self-control was slipping through his fingers. “I would not think you were the type to do such things.”  


“The Church of Seiros has stated that  _ indulging,” _ she mimicked his voice, raising her eyebrows as she spoke. “-in  _ earthly whims _ , such as alcohol is fine. In moderation. The goddess is not giving me a free pass to go into town and drink in the taverns.”  


“Fair enough.”  


“When the Goddess created us, giving us the skills and tools to make wine, why would we  _ not  _ allow ourselves the opportunity to enjoy her gifts?” Another loud hiccup interrupted her, so powerful that it made her jump. Her already flushed face grew redder.

“You should probably stop talking. It’ll only irritate your throat more.” He swallowed, finding himself gazing at her throat. It was a shame that she wore such a high collar. How he would have loved to see more of her pale flesh, tenderly unraveling that white scarf to sink his teeth into.  


“Then you talk!”  


Hubert shifted around, reaching over the table to yank the half-empty bottle away from her, placing it on the ground. “About what?”

Mercedes turned her head, suddenly getting up. She walked a few steps, the grass rustling beneath her boots as another soft hiccup escaped her. “Do you know anything about constellations?” Her body swayed as she peered upwards.  


“Mercedes, I believe you should come--” he was unable to finish his sentence as he rushed out of the chair to catch her as she fell, pressing her body tightly to his own. His breaths were ragged, partly out of concern for how the wine affected her, and partly out of panic.  


He had touched girls before. Mutually exclusive or not, Hubert was not one to be foreign around women. And he is definitely not skittish about being around the opposite sex. Yet his heart raced as he held her, thundering behind his eyes.  


For one, selfish second, Hubert considered Mercedes his. Whether or not it was just muddled, toxicated thoughts of lust, or his true feelings, he would never know. All he knew was that he was hopelessly wanting more.

“Are...are you alright?”  


“Yes, I just wanted to lay down and look up at the stars,” she smiled, pinching his cheek. “My Prince Charming came to rescue me, how sweet!”

He hid his emotions under a scowl, forcibly letting go of her. “I already told you that I’m not babysitting drunken women.”  


“Oh shush, you’re as bad as me. Come lay down with me and gaze at the stars,” she scolded back, adjusting herself. “Then you can walk me back to my room.”  


He didn’t respond, laying down beside her. The regret of letting her go was already stinging, leaving him wishing that he held her for a moment longer. They were still close - so close, in fact, that all he had to do to touch her was move his arm a bit to the left and he could tug on that shawl.  


“Now then, explain to me what  _ that _ one is.” She pointed upwards a random constellation. Or what he believed to be a constellation. The earth was spinning beneath him, which made looking up at the stars difficult. Still, gritting his teeth, Hubert managed to at least get a glance.  


“That is the Aedinia Vulpis. Legends say that the Goddess created this specific constellation to guide lost travelers,” he lifted one arm, trying to trace the outline of a fox. “If you follow the snout, you are going north, and if you follow the tail, south.”

“I assume it’s perfect for the battlefield as well.”  


“Yes. It has a use if, for example, you’re in an unknown area surrounded by enemies. You can have an idea of which direction you are going. The stars never lie to us.”  


“I didn’t know you were a poet, Hubert.”  


“I wasn’t trying to be. It’s the truth. Unless there is bad weather, the stars will always be up there, observing us just as we observe them.”  


She didn’t respond, nor did he feel compelled to start another conversation. The stillness was enough - along with her occasional hiccup which only added to her charm.  


Hubert’s consciousness drifted in and out. His body felt pinned to the grass, unable to move. Nevertheless, he was content with staying glued to the ground by Mercedes’ side. The thought was unnatural, and he resented that the years of unwavering loyalty to Lady Edelgard and the Empire was gradually breaking down. Slowly, the pieces would fall, until there was nothing left. But he welcomed the now-disoriented nature of his feelings, because for once, he felt completely normal.  


Like a normal human, able to express emotions, to have a choice.

To fall in love. To have an obsession.  


“Mercedes?” His voice was hoarse.  


“Yes?”  


Hubert didn’t know how his sluggish body was able to move quickly, but he felt his hands cupping her cheeks, and he kissed her.

To his shock, she kissed him back.  


He deepened the kiss, teetering on the edge of the pent-up desires that burned within him for so long. His fingers curled up into her hair, holding back the urge to pull on it. The scent of ginger and honey snared him in.

Nothing seemed real anymore. For all he knew, this could have all been imagined as a side-effect of the wine. A deep, loathsome dread filled his stomach, wracking Hubert with guilt. He should not have kissed her. The act itself was a betrayal to the Empire. Even to breathe in the air she breathed was damnable.  


But he did not mind, in that moment, to commit such a sin and suffer the consequences. Or perhaps, liquid courage was corrupting his mind into rotten nothingness.

He broke the kiss, choosing to instead nip her chin, trailing his lovebites to her neck. “Shame you wear that necktie.”  


“But I like it,” she shot back, slowly undoing the bow that held her tie in place.  


Once it was loosened, Hubert took off a glove to feel her flesh against his fingertips. Caressing her neck, he nearly moaned out loud at how velvety her skin felt against his. His mouth watered, the temptation melting the core of his soul. If he wasn’t as drunk, he might have taken the initiative to see her squirm.  


Instead, he bit mercifully on her neck, sucking on the flesh. She gasped, letting out an airy moan. Hubert pulled away, looking down at the fresh mark he left. Now Mercedes had a reason to wear that necktie.  


Choking her was the farthest thing from his mind now. He preferably wanted to hold Mercedes against him, and to never let her go. The very idea of hurting her was… awful. If only his magic were strong enough to cease the flow of time, that the moment could last forever.

She leaned upwards to kiss him again, gentle as ever. Her fingers ran through his locks, her thumb stroking his neck. He obeyed her, returning the kiss with the same temperament.  


This was yet another comparison between the two of them, Hubert noted to himself. He wanted her all in that moment, whereas she took her time, planning each kiss and touch as if she had predicted the night’s events.

He was about to reach his hand under her skirt, but she stopped him. “As much as I am enjoying kissing you, I don’t think it would be best if we did something like that under the influence. And here of all places...” She stuck out her tongue in mock-disgust, before another hiccup wracked her gentle frame. “Oooh, if a guard saw us, we would be in so much trouble.”  


Hubert nodded his head, a trickle of disappointment prickling at his gut. On the other hand, it was probably for the better that their little rendezvous stopped there. He was indeed a monster, with few morals.  


He helped her up, using it as an excuse to hold her close again. “Perhaps another time?” At this point, he was willing to do anything - almost anything, he corrected himself. Almost anything to spend more time with her.

Mercedes smirked, adjusting her necktie. She slipped her arm into the crook of his own. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. All I know is that you promised me that you’d accompany me back to my dorm.”  


“I didn’t forget,” he commented as he led her back, praying that he’d be able to remember exactly where her dorm was. “But I do want to see you again, Mercedes. However, I’d like to just settle for tea. That wine was enough for a lifetime.”

“I have some spare time tomorrow, if you’re free, and I got this new tea from one of the merchants the other day. Annette recommended it to me. I think it was the one who comes from the south of Fódlan... Or was it the east?”

Hubert remained quiet, merely walking ahead. He had a chance with Mercedes, a slim chance at having a relationship with her. His heart skipped a beat for the hundredth time tonight, almost threatening to utterly stop altogether.  


“Hubert?” Her voice was soft.  


“Yes, Mercedes?”  


“Do you think ghosts roam the monastery at night?”

“Perhaps. But I know for certain that we were the ghosts tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to explain myself. I think it's rather fun to create a ship with two of the most opposite characters in Three Houses. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave a kudos if you enjoyed, or comment how crazy I am because why would I write a ship like this??
> 
> EDIT: 9/26/19
> 
> Okay, I NEVER expected this fic to blow up as it did, and I am ecstatic that so many folks enjoyed it so much. I especially want to thank owlyuri/chickenbabby for creating art of Mercie and Hubert together. Please check them out and RT their lovely, lovely art. https://twitter.com/chickenbabby/status/1176714301840797697?s=2
> 
> Without her, I don't think this fic would have gotten as many hits as it did. Just...thank you all SO SO SOOOOO much. And don't worry, I plan to write more Mercedes/Hubert in the near future - I have been toying with some multi-chapter ideas. I just need to add in extra details from the game. See you all soon, and thank you again.


End file.
